


cast a spell (on me)

by fleurting



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bad Matchmaking, Harry Thinks Malfoy Is Up To Something, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-29 18:46:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6388930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fleurting/pseuds/fleurting
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Unlucky in love? Meet with our certified expert on love and relationships and your luck will change faster than you can say Felix Felicis!</p>
            </blockquote>





	cast a spell (on me)

**Author's Note:**

> All the love to S and L for the help and hand-holding.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Harry muttered as he stepped into the lift, pressing the button for the top floor and cursing Hermione’s name. He couldn’t believe she’d talked him into this. _It’ll be good for you,_ Hermione said. _Ever since Ginny_ , _well, you’ve just not really tried with anyone, have you_ ? Hermione said. _It can’t hurt,_ Hermione said. Hermione talked too much. Harry felt a twinge of guilt as he thought it but that guilt quickly dissipated as he glanced down at the card in his hand. It was dark and sleek, with an elegant design and the word SPELLBOUND in big, blocked lettering.

 

“Spellbound,” Harry spat, shaking his head. Ridiculous. Curious to see what else this “prolific” (according to Hermione) service claimed to offer, he read on. _Unlucky in love?_ the card read, _Meet with our certified expert on love and relationships and your luck will change faster than you can say Felix Felicis!_ Harry grimaced at the pitch and flipped the card over. Someone had taken the time to create figures (which were more like silhouettes) in the shapes of witches and wizards donning robes, hats, and all. There were three couples pictured: one of a man kissing a woman on the cheek, another of a man holding hands with another man and swinging their hands back and forth, and one more of a woman smiling at the woman across from her, who was grinning widely back. Well, at least they’re progressive, Harry thought. Luckily, or, not so luckily, the elevator dinged and the doors opened to reveal the matchmaking service’s headquarters.

 

The headquarters mirrored the business card in its design with its sleek and elegance but the black color scheme had been replaced with white, creating a nice airy feel within the room. Harry glanced around, inspecting the place for a few seconds before heading over toward the reception desk where a bored looking girl who appeared to be a few years younger than Harry sat rolling her eyes as she talked on the phone. Harry stood there, waiting politely albeit a bit awkwardly for the girl to get off the phone. However after a moment or two passed the girl took the phone away from her ear and raised her eyebrows at Harry.

 

“Oh! Um...Harry Potter? My friend sat this up for me. I’m not really sure how or what to…” Harry trailed off as the girl rolled her eyes. Harry got the feeling she did that a lot. Unsurprising if at least half of the...patients? clients? she dealt with were as dimwitted as him and spun around in her chair. The girl reappeared a few seconds later, clipboard in hand.

 

“Sign in there,” she nodded toward a sign in sheet Harry had missed placed in front of the glass window between them. “And fill out this paperwork. Bring it back up here when you're done. They'll call you when they're ready.”

 

“Thanks,” Harry said but the girl’s attention was already back to the phone, which Harry realised she’d still had on the entire time, letting whoever it was babble incessantly on. Harry smiled a little to himself as he walked to one of the chairs in the waiting room.

 

He filled out the basic information, name, date of birth, contact information, etc. fairly quickly and was expecting the rest of the paperwork to go by just as fast. Instead, there were several pages (front and back) to fill out, a lot of which had questions that at first glance he wasn't even sure how to answer. He glanced at the clock and sighed. He was already here and he had the morning off of work so he might as well go through with it. It's also possible he may have been a smidgen afraid of what Hermione might do to him if she found out he'd skipped out on the appointment. Possibly.

 

Harry started on the rest of the paperwork.

 

 **GENERAL** :

 

_What is your sexuality? (If you do not use labels, please tick the box that says ‘LABEL FREE.’)_

 

☐ Asexual

☑ Bisexual

☐ Demisexual

☐ Gay

☐ Heterosexual

☐ Lesbian

☐ Pansexual

☐ Queer

☐ Questioning

☐ Label Free

☐ Other ____________

 

_What is your gender? (Please check any that apply. Ex. - if you are a cisgender female, please tick the boxes for both female and cisgender. However, if you are not comfortable disclosing such information, please do not feel pressured to do so.)_

 

☑ Male

☐ Female

☐ Agender

☐ Genderfluid

☐ Nonbinary

☑ Cisgender  
☐ Transgender

☐ Other ____________

 

_What gender or genders are you interested in?_

☐ Male  
☐ Female  
☐ Agender

☐ Genderfluid

☐ Nonbinary

☐ Cisgender

☐ Transgender

☑ All

 **PHYSICAL PREFERENCES** :

 

 _Hair color_ :

☐ Auburn  
☐ Blonde  
☐ Brown

☐ Black

☐ Chestnut

☐ Red

☐ Other (pink, blue, etc.)

☑ All/Any/No preference

 

 _Eye color_ :

☐ Amber

☐ Blue

☐ Brown

☐ Green

☐ Grey

☐ Hazel

☑ All/Any/No preference

 

_Height:_

☐ Short

☐ Tall

☐ Average

☑ All/Any/No preference

 

The paperwork went on like that for a while, with sections about tattoos and body piercings, religious and political affiliations, whether or not the client wanted children, etc., etc. Harry did alright with those questions; he wasn't particularly religious or political, he knew he wanted children at some point, as well as pets. The physical characteristics of people weren't of much importance to him, he was much more focused on personality. Yet when it came time to fill out that portion of the paperwork he drew a blank. Loyalty was something he wanted in a partner, as well as kindness. Someone who was smart and driven, strong and determined. Someone trustworthy. And someone who was family oriented. A sense of humour, particularly of the dry/witty/sarcastic sort was a plus, as was creativity. But that all seemed so generic. Someone who understood his schedule he supposed. Aurors kept unusual hours sometimes. And someone who understood his need to be alone or with his friends without them sometimes. That was all he could think of, really. He figured that was the best as they were gonna get out of him so he quickly filled in the last bit of the paperwork and returned it to the receptionist who was now painting her nails.

 

He sat back down, watching the telly in the corner for a while, messing about on his phone, and flipping through back issues of _Witch Weekly_.

 

“Potter?” Someone called about half an hour later. Harry sat up from where he was _not_ dozing off and quickly walked over to the door.

 

“Parkinson?” Harry asked, eyes widening as he took in the person who had called his name.

 

“Potter?” She asked, mimicking Harry’s expression, making fun of him.  “Follow me.”

 

“So, erm, how are you?” Harry asked.

 

“We are _not_ going to have small talk, Potter. Go in there,” she directed him toward a door and it was only then that Harry realised they’d stopped. “He’ll be with you in a moment.” She walked off without a goodbye, leaving Harry to sit in the room and wait for this so called ‘love specialist.’

 

“Well, well, well,” a voice came from the door and Harry’s body turned cold. Or hot. With hatred. He wasn’t sure which. “What do we have here?”

 

“Malfoy,” Harry said through gritted teeth as he turned to see the boy in the doorway.

 

“Having some bad luck in the love department are we, Potter?” Draco said, closing the door and walking over to his desk.

 

“Hermione forced me to come here.”

 

Draco looked at him unbelievingly. “Sure.”

 

“Now, I’m assuming you’re clueless as to how this goes? Considering you’re pretty clueless in general.”

 

Harry glared at him. “How did you even get started with all this anyway?”

 

“Well, due to my ‘actions during the war,’ and your precious Ministry’s opinion of me, it’s not like I was being offered employment anywhere else,” Draco said bitterly.

 

“I’m sorry. Really,” Harry said to which Draco scoffed. “We’re trying to change that, you know. Me, Ron, Hermione, Neville. We’re fighting it.”

 

“Forget it, Potter. None of this should have been brought up in the first place. You filled out all the paperwork?”

 

Harry nodded. “I noticed it was very...open...and inclusive…” he treaded carefully.

 

“What?” Draco snapped, glancing up from where he was skimming Harry's file. “You expected us to be bigots?”

 

“No!” Harry protested. “I just...was surprised…”

 

“People change, Potter.”

 

“I know.”

 

They stared at each other for a moment before Draco went back to work.

 

“Here’s how it works. I go over your paperwork and if you filled everything out honestly and correctly, I’ll select people I believe are matches for you. If they agree to meet with you, contact information will be exchanged, and then meetings are set up by you or them. Understood?” Harry nodded.

 

“Usually, I talk with the client to get a feel for them as a person, but since I’ve already had the absolute pleasure of knowing you for years, you may go now.”

 

Harry got out of his chair, but hesitated.

 

Draco looked up and raised his eyebrows. “In case you weren’t aware, Potter, that was a dismissal.”

 

Harry rolled his eyes. “Goodbye, Malfoy,” he said, exiting the room and having to resist the urge to slam the door behind him.

 

* * *

 

 

On Monday Harry had his first date with a guy named Michael, who after Harry had described him to Dean, proclaimed he was a “douche of the highest order.” The restaurant they were meeting at wasn’t fancy exactly, but Harry had stilled dressed in his nicest pair of jeans and a crisp Oxford. Michael showed up wearing a backwards cap, sunglasses as blindingly white as his skin, a salmon polo with the collar popped up, khaki shorts, and flip flops. This all should have been a blaring warning sign, but Harry was clueless when it came to fashion himself, he didn’t know that these were the type of clothes worn by arseholes. The date started out okay, Harry learning Michael had actually been at Hogwarts the same time Harry had which immediately made feel Harry guilty for not recognising him. Michael assured him it was alright, he was a few years younger than Harry, he wouldn’t expect Harry to recognise him and if it weren’t the fact for him being, y’know, _Harry Potter_ , Michael likely wouldn’t have recognised him either. Still, Harry felt a bit of guilt sitting in his stomach all through dinner. After dinner they decided to take a walk and before Harry knew it they were in his apartment and tumbling into his bed.

 

A hushed voice yelling “Shit!” Awoke Harry the next morning. Harry groaned and rolled over, using his arm to block out the sun that was streaming through the blinds. He reached out for his wand and quickly closed them.

 

“What are you doing?” Harry asked, sitting up and frowning as he put on his glasses to see Michael pulling on his pants.

 

“Uh,” Michael grimaced, “listen, mate, this was fun, yeah? But neither of us are looking for anything serious, right?”

 

“Actually ---”

 

“Brill! I knew you’d understand,” Michael said, donning the last of his clothes and walking backwards out of Harry’s bedroom. “See you later, bro!”

 

Harry looked at the spot in the doorway where Michael had just disappeared for a second before muttering “fuck it,” flopping back down onto the bed, turning over, and going back to sleep.

 

* * *

 

Tuesday came and with it was a much more guarded Harry who now had a firm rule about not sleeping with anyone on the first date. He also planned for them to go to lunch this time instead of dinner, which lessened the pressure a bit. Priya, an Indian-American girl, walked into the restaurant and drew the attention of everyone in the vicinity as she did so. Her shiny black hair cascaded over her shoulders which seemed to glisten in the light as did the rest of her. She was mesmerising. She was also completely amused by Harry fumbling over his words as he tried to introduce himself. She took pity on him and began talking, giving him a chance to give himself a mental pep talk. Or scolding. They exchanged pleasantries and after a moment a somewhat uncomfortable silence fell between them. They both scanned the restaurant for as long as they could before it would be awkward and then faced each other again. When their eyes locked, Priya let out a nervous giggle and Harry mirrored her action.

 

“Listen, Harry…” Priya said, hesitantly and Harry immediately felt a waft of dread come over him. “I hate to do this to you, really, I do, you seem...nice,” she finished, offering an awkward half smile which Harry accepted and returned as he understood that given their limited time knowing each other, there wasn’t really another adjective she could use to describe him.

 

“It’s just that, well, I’m extremely focused on my career, I’m a ballet dancer, see?”

 

“Really? That’s fantastic! I bet you’re amazing,” Harry said and he meant it, the graceful and elegant air seemed to surround her was probably due to her being a ballerina. Or maybe it was the other way round.

 

“Thank you,” Priya smiled, graciously.

 

“I have an extremely rigorous schedule, and I assume you have one too as an Auror,” she looked to Harry who nodded his head in confirmation. “And we’d never see each other anyway if this were to work out and I’m really more focused on my career than relationships right now and it wouldn’t be fair to you or to either of us and---”

 

“Priya, Priya,” Harry said, grabbing Priya’s hands which had been gesturing all over the place as she spoke. “Calm down, it’s okay, really.”

 

Priya took a deep breath and smiled sheepishly. “Sorry. I get a bit worked up sometimes.”

 

“It’s alright. Truly. And I understand completely.”

 

Priya’s eyes lit up. “You do? Oh, that’s wonderful!”

 

Harry smiled.

 

“Oh!” Priya’s eyes widened and she began to shake her head frantically. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t be friends! If you want to be friends, of course. Oh, Merlin, what if you don’t want to be friends? I’m sorry I didn’t mean to assume ---”

 

“Priya,” Harry interrupted again. “Breathe,” he instructed.

 

“Right. Breathe,” Priya repeated, taking a deep breath and then smiling sheepishly at Harry again.

 

“And I’d love to be friends.”

 

“Oh, yay!” Priya beamed. They sat at the table smiling at each other for a second before Priya’s phone went off. “Oh, dear. I’ve got training in an hour and I’d really like to get there a bit early, I’m so sorry.”

 

“Priya, it’s fine,” Harry insisted. “Go.”

 

Priya stood up, hesitating for a moment before leaning over and hugging Harry briefly. “I mean it about us being friends. Keep in touch, okay?”

 

“Cross my heart,” Harry promised. Priya smiled widely at him before taking off.

 

Harry really did understand and want to be friends with her but that didn’t stop him from gazing somewhat wistfully after her as she seemed to float out of the door. She truly was magnificent.

 

* * *

 

On Wednesday Harry had lunch with an extremely cute guy named Andre. He had brown skin with warm orange-red undertones, a head full of locs pulled up into a ponytail, and black square framed glasses. Harry would be lying if he said the thought of their glasses clashing together if they kissed didn’t cross his mind. There was an immediate sense of camaraderie and comfortableness between them. At first they discussed and bonded over more basic topics like Quidditch and music. But they soon found themselves in conversations involving serious topics such as the biphobia they experience, especially in the Wizarding World, and Andre enlightened Harry on his white privilege and what it’s like to be a man of color, a wizard, and bisexual. The date went perfectly, was both entertaining and informative, and the two of them got on extremely well. But there was an awkward air as the date comes to close.

 

“Listen, Harry,” Andre said, scratching at the back of his neck.

 

“Andre,” Harry said simultaneously, causing them both to laugh.

 

“I mean, we obviously get on great,” Andre said when Harry motioned for him to speak first. “But…”

 

“But there’s just no chemistry?” Harry suggested.

 

Andre snapped his fingers. “Yes! Exactly,” Andre leaned back in his chair, looking relieved.

 

“I still expect you to take me up on that Quidditch match though,” Harry grinned.

 

“Of course, man. You’re going down,” Andre grinned back.

 

“We’ll see about that.”

 

* * *

 

On Thursday, his date never showed. Her name is Brigid and Harry tried to get in touch with her a number of times but after a while he started to feel a bit like a creep. Eventually she called him and basically sayid that she was incredibly sorry for standing him up, it completely slipped her mind as she been extremely busy lately because she’s moving back to Ireland in about a month. They both agreed that there really isn’t a point in starting anything anyway and wish each other the best in their endeavors before going their separate ways.

 

* * *

 

On Friday Harry met with a beautiful woman named Winnie. The first thing she told him was that she’s mixed, part Peruvian and part Taiwanese, and that’s she trans. Which she hopes won’t be a problem. All of this is said with an intimidating expression.

 

Harry almost spit out the tea he was sipping on. “Of course not!”

 

A sweet smile replaced the intimidating expression. “Good. I didn’t think so, people tend to be kind of upfront about that kind of thing on their applications but you never know.”

 

“Anyway, Harry,” she said, kindly. “Listen, I’m sorry but I’ve actually started seeing someone.”

 

Harry raised his eyebrows. “Oh, really?”

 

“Yes,” Winnie frowned. “I’m sorry. It’s fairly new but we’re getting pretty serious about each other. I just felt I at least owed it to you to come down here and explain instead of just bailing out on you altogether.”  

 

“No,” Harry protesed, “you don’t owe me anything. I understand. Go on with your partner. I’m sure you’d rather be with them during your lunch break than me.” Harry smiles, jokingly self-deprecating.

 

“You’re sweet. I hope maybe we could try being friends?”

 

“‘Course, I’d love that.”

 

Winnie smiled, her smile seeming to lighten up the whole room.

 

* * *

 

Harry lounged about at Dean and Seamus’ shared flat later that night, telling them as well, as Ron, Hermione, Neville, Ginny, and Luna about what his SPELLBOUND experience had been like. The boys and Ginny were mostly amused, while Hermione was upset her plan wasn’t working, and Neville and Luna were quiet and humming to themselves, respectively. The conversation soon moved on to Quidditch standings and work and whether or not to get takeout (a unanimous yes) and what to get (a variety of different opinions and a multitude of arguments). Harry stayed sat on the couch in the living room, Ginny and Luna on the loveseat near him, the three of them deciding to let the rest of them fight it out.

 

“He really called you ‘bro,’?” Ginny asked, bringing up Harry’s first date with Michael again.

 

“Yes,” Harry groaned, closing his eyes and banging the back of this head against the couch cushion. Ginny giggled.

 

“Hmm,” Luna said contemplatively.

 

Ginny leaned around from where she was sitting somewhat behind Luna, messing with her hair, to see her face. “What is it Luna?”

 

“It’s quite odd, isn’t it?” She asked, looking at Harry.

 

“What is?”

 

“You’re supposed to be meeting people who are perfect for you. But everyone you’ve met is just the opposite! It’s almost like someone’s done it on purpose. Hmm.”

 

It was silent for a moment. “I think I’d like pizza. With pineapple,” Luna declared, braving her way into the kitchen.

 

Harry turned over what Luna had said in his head. A light came over his eyes as he realised. “That bastard!

 

Ginny glanced over at him, wary. “You come across a bit mad sometimes, y’know?”

 

Harry sighed. “I know.”

 

* * *

 

“Did you set me up?” Harry asked as he barged into Draco’s office.

 

“Considering that is my specialty, yes, Potter, I _did_ set you up.” Draco rolled his eyes.

 

“No, I mean ---. Merlin, you’re so frustrating! Did you _purposely_ set me up with people you knew it wouldn’t work out with?”

 

Draco glanced up from the work he’d been pouring over since Harry had first barged in. “No,” he said slowly, as if he were speaking to a small child. “I don’t let feelings get in the way of business. Everyone you met with was handpicked by an expert. Me, Potter. I’m the expert. And I’m never wrong.”

 

Harry glared. “Wait ---” he said, running back over what Draco had said. “Feelings? What feelings?”

 

A slight blush arose on Draco’s cheeks. “Nevermind. It’s not important. Now---”

 

“It is so important!”

 

Draco heaved a heavy sigh.

 

Harry fell silent for a moment before asking, in a small, quiet voice. “Do you really hate me all that much? Even after all this time?”

 

Draco sighed once more, closing his eyes and running his head as if to rub away the headache that was Harry.

 

He looked up and what Harry saw was different than anything he’d seen on Draco’s face before. He looked tired, not in the physical sense but within his eyes. His eyes looked tired, as if everything he had ever been through was sitting there just beneath the surface, and no one could ever possibly imagine what it was like. Except Harry. Harry could imagine. He had seen that exact expression many times before, staring back at him in the mirror.

 

“No, Harry,” Draco said, and it was the use of his first name and not so much the tone that fell somewhere between resigned and reverent, that startled Harry the most. “I don’t hate you all that much.”

 

They stood there, looking silently at each other, the air thick and uncomfortable between them until Draco cleared his throat and sat back, shuffling some papers on his desk.

 

Harry sat down in one of the chairs across from Draco’s desk. “I just don’t understand,” Harry stated, no longer angry, just confused.

 

“Understand what?” Draco asked, still not looking at Harry and focusing on organizing his desk, which was already meticulously clean.

 

“If you didn’t purposely set me up to fail,” Harry said.

 

“I didn’t!” Draco insisted, looking up to glare at Harry, his eyes narrowing even more when he saw Harry grinning cheekily at him.

 

“Then why didn’t anything work out?”

 

“I don’t know, it was probably something wrong with you. I’m not your therapist, Potter, go ask them.”

 

“But I don’t have a therapist,” Harry said blankly.

 

Draco paused where he was Accoing files out of a cabinet.  “And _I’m_ the frustrating one?”

 

Harry bit his lip to stop the smile from appearing on his face.

 

“It just doesn’t make any sense. If you’re an expert ---”

 

“Which I am,” Draco interrupted.

 

“Shouldn’t at least one of the people I met with had any potential?”

 

“Alright, Potter, don’t get your trousers in a twist. Here,” Draco flicked his wand and another file came flying out of one of the numerous filing cabinets in the room and landed on Draco’s desk.

 

“If you’re that bothered about it we’ll go over it and see what went wrong. Merlin.”

 

“Alright,” Draco started, opening the file, “what was wrong with Alayne?” He asked, looking at Harry expectantly.

 

“Alayne?” Harry asked, brows furrowing. “I didn’t meet with an Alayne.”

 

“Pardon?” Draco asked.

 

“I didn’t meet with an ---”

 

“I heard you the first time, Potter, it’s just that doesn’t make any sense.”

 

“Which is what I’ve been saying…” Harry muttered under his breath.

 

Draco glanced over the files for a few seconds before snapping his head back up sharply. “Did you meet with David?”

 

Harry shook his head no.

 

Draco continued. “Nadia? Rowan?” When Harry shook his head that he hadn’t met with those two either the lines between Draco’s forehead became more pronounced. “What about Ingrid or Casey? Gwendolyn? Alonzo?”

 

“No. None of them.”

 

“That doesn't...you should've…” Draco started mumbling under his breath, frantically moving papers around and quite honestly frightening Harry a bit. Draco stopped suddenly, slamming a folder on the desk and making Harry jump slightly.

 

“Parkinson.” He growled, a dark expression taking over his face. He pressed a button on the phone that sat on his desk, which Harry hadn't noticed before and was pleasantly surprised by Draco’s using of the Muggle object.

 

“Pansy,” he crooned into the phone. His voice was sweet, sickeningly so, with an undercurrent of anger and Harry hoped he would never have to hear it again.

 

“Do come here at once, please.”

 

Draco’s uncommon pleasantry must have alerted Pansy about the seriousness of the situation for she was there in the doorway before Draco had even fully lifted his finger off the button on the phone.

 

“Your majesty rang,” Pansy said drily as she walked into the room, looking unamused.

 

“What did you do?”

 

Pansy widened her eyes, making her look like the perfect picture of innocence, “Whatever do you mean?”

 

“Mr. Potter here,” Draco gestured to Harry, who waved at Pansy awkwardly and immediately regretted it. Pansy looked amused, Draco looked as if he was pained by Harry’s very existence.

 

“--- did not meet with any of the people I suggested for him. Please tell me how that came to be.”

 

“Perhaps you made a mistake, Draco. It has been known to happen.”

 

Draco looked murderous. Harry thought he might’ve seen his eye start twitching.

 

“Pansy…” Draco warned but Pansy only rolled her eyes.

 

“Oh, relax, Draco. Merlin. Yes, I, Pansy Parkinson, Ruler of All That is Evil, purposely destroyed Potter’s chances at finding true love.”

 

“Your tone is sarcastic but your words are true, are they not?”

 

“No,” Pansy smiled cheerily, sitting down in the chair next to Harry’s and crossing her legs. “They are.”

 

Harry gaped at her for a moment. “Why would you do that?”

 

“Really?” Pansy said. Harry looked at her, confused, before looking to Draco who only shrugged in response. He looked quite amused in the antics. Harry glared at him.

 

“You too?” Pansy said, turning her attention to Draco who’s amused expression immediately vanished. Harry laughed quietly to himself.

 

“Merlin, you two are thick. You deserve each other.”

 

_“What?”_

 

_“Excuse me?”_

 

“Oh, don’t act all innocent, you know exactly what I’m talking about. Draco, you’ve been harbouring a crush? Hard on? For Potter for how long now? Since you were eleven at least.”

 

Draco opened his mouth to protest but Pansy stopped him with a look that seemed to say ‘Just go ahead and try. I dare you.’

 

“And you,” Pansy said, turning her attention to Harry who felt like he needed to hold up his hands in surrender and say ‘don’t shoot.’ “I have it on good authority that you’ve been obsessed with Draco for quite a while as well.”  

 

“And on whose authority would that be?” Draco demanded before Harry could ask the same question.

 

“Why Potter’s merry little band of misfits, of course.”

 

“When, and why, have you been hanging out with my “merry little band of misfits”?” Harry asked.

 

“That’s none of your concern. Now, you’re both obviously more suited to each other than anyone else. Which is why I purposely changed out the people Draco had picked for you and replaced them with people whom I knew it wouldn’t work out with. It’s also why Granger sent you here in the first place. Didn’t you think it odd that _Granger_ was the one that pushed you to come here?”

 

“Well, yeah, sort of…But...”

 

“This was all part of the plan. You’d figure it out, get angry at Draco, come barging in here and the two of you would either fuck each other on the desk or kill each other one. We were hoping for the former. But then Draco here had to be so repressed that instead of just planting one on you like he should have he called me in here instead.”

 

“Pansy,” Draco started.

 

“Sorry, must be off now. I’ve got real work to do. This diabolical planning stuff is exhausting. Quite fun though, isn’t it?” Pansy said, winking as she walked out the door.

 

With Pansy gone, tension and awkwardness filled the room. It was almost unbearable.

 

“So,”  Draco said.

 

“So,” Harry repeated, clapping his hands together.

 

“Would you…?” Harry asked after a few more moments of awkward silence.

 

“Would I…? Use your words, Potter.”

 

“Oh, shut up, Malfoy. I’m _trying_ to ask you if you would want...want to…”

 

“Want to _what_?”

 

“Date! Want to date! Or, go on a date. Or…”

 

“Huh,” Draco leaned back, placing his chin in his hand and pretending to mull it over, even though they both already knew the answer. “Alright.”

 

“Alright?” Harry asked.

 

Draco shrugged.

 

Harry stood up, wiping his hands on his jeans. “Okay, then. We’ll do that.”

 

“Mmmhmm,” Draco said, already going back to his work.

 

“Oh, and Potter,” Draco called as Harry was almost at the door. “I pick when.”

 

“Fine.”

 

“And where.”

 

“Fine.”

 

“And don’t wear jeans,” Draco said, looking down and scrunching his nose up and Harry’s outfit.

 

“How did you know I was going to wear ---” Draco raised his eyebrows. “Never mind.”

 

“See you soon, then.”

 

“Mmm. Have a good day, Potter.” Draco said, clearly dismissing him. “Or don’t. I don’t care.”

 

Harry shook his head, smiling to himself as he shut the door behind him.

 

* * *

 

That night Draco sent Harry an owl containing the time and location of their date and one again, specific instructions to not wear jeans. Harry spent a longer amount of time than he’d admit picking out what to wear, finally deciding on the only pair of slacks he owned and his nicest shirt. Which he was extremely relieved he did when he arrived at the location Draco had sent him and laid eyes on one of the swankiest restaurants he’d ever come across. He was pretty sure he must’ve looked like a kid in a candy store as he looked around the place in amazement.

 

“Sir?” A voice called out and Harry turned to a man in a three piece suit without the jacket. “May I help you?”

 

“Um, Malfoy?” Harry said, wincing as his voice squeaked. The man didn’t appear to notice, looking down at the list in front of him.

 

“Of course,” he said, looking up. “Right this way.” Harry followed him, feeling self conscious as he surreptitiously checked out the rest of the clientele.

 

“Potter,” Draco said as he arrived at the table. “I mean, uh, Harry.”

 

“Mal-, Draco,” Harry said, glad they were both feeling unsure in these uncharted waters.

 

“Your server will be with you in a moment,” the host said, surprising Harry, who had, to be completely honest, forgotten he was there. Draco nodded his thanks and then glanced at Harry.

 

“Do you want me to…” He nodded at Harry’s chair.

 

“Oh, no!” Harry exclaimed, pulling out his chair and taking his seat. “I don’t think my heart could take the shock of you being polite.”

 

Draco glared but for once there was no heat behind it. Harry smiled at him.

 

Their dinner was fine but filled with lots of silences. They already knew what each other did for a living, about their families, their hobbies. It was a first date but so much of the information usually exchanged on first dates they already knew. Not to mention Draco’s foot had started rubbing against Harry’s not too longer after the third glass of wine and Harry was having a difficult time trying to keep up a conversation at well. Finally, after they had exhausted just about every topic they could think of, including the analysis of every Quidditch team, Draco leaned over the table, eyes dark, and whispered, “Do you want to get out of here?”

 

“Merlin,” Harry breathed a sigh of relief, “I thought you’d never ask.”

 

Draco signaled for their server. They sat there looking at each other while they waited, not saying anything. Draco’s cheeks were flushed from the wine and Harry’s eyes travelled down his neck and to his collarbone as he imagined how far that flush might go. Draco must have noticed because he inhaled sharply and his foot that had been rubbing against Harry’s began moving up Harry’s leg. Harry gulped.

 

After what seemed like a lifetime their server appeared and Draco sent them away with an order to keep the change and a generous tip. He grabbed Harry’s hand firmly and Harry squeezed back as Draco lead them out of the restaurant. They went around to the alley, out of the sight of any Muggles, and Harry pulled Draco close to him, wrapping his arms around his neck and pressing his lips harshly against Draco’s. Draco whimpered slightly, opening his mouth to give Harry more access and wrapping his arms around Harry’s waist.

 

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that,” Harry breathed after he pulled away.

 

“How long you’ve wanted to do that tonight? Or in general?”

 

Harry leaned in and kissed him against, swift and sweet this time. “Both,” he said before taking Draco’s hand and Apparating them back to his flat.  

 

* * *

 

“I want a refund by the way,” Harry said as he lay on the bed, his fingers running up and down Draco’s side.

 

“What on earth for?”

 

Harry turned to look at Draco. “You’re supposed to find me love in seven days, aren’t you?”

 

“First, we’ll change your _luck_ in seven days. Not find you love.” Harry smiled as Draco started going off about his work.  “And besides, I don’t know what you learned in school, Potter, but today is Saturday. Your experience officially started on a Monday. That makes today day six. And you did find someone. You got me. So, you most definitely are not getting a refund.”

 

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Harry shrugged. “I suppose you’re better than a refund anyway.”

 

Draco looked at him, disgusted. “That is the corniest thing you have said tonight, including that time about an hour ago, when you were calling me baby while we were in bed.”

 

Harry blushed. “That was an accident!” Harry insisted.

 

“The point is,” said Draco, “that it’s cheesy and I will not stand for it.”

 

“Yes, you will. And I’m sure I’ll come up with much cheesier things in the future.”

 

“I am most decidedly _not_ looking forward to it.”

 

Harry leaned over, kissing Draco on the cheek. “Keep telling yourself that, Malfoy.”

 


End file.
